Harry meet the Mauraders
by BlackHallway
Summary: (Warning: contains child abuse) Abused by the Dursleys and cut off from the wizarding world Harry feels all alone. Now Harry is about to travel back in time to meet the mauraders as they were in their 6th year at Hogwarts. Please read and review!
1. Default Chapter

"You bloody idiot!" Uncle Vernon shouted as he threw the plate of bacon at the wall, "you burned the breakfast! Can you do nothing right?!"

Harry looked at Uncle Vernon with a vacant expression and said nothing.

"Well boy?! Answer me!" Uncle Vernon roared.

Not about to justify the question with an answer Harry continued to look on.

"You little-" Uncle Vernon took Harry by the collar and lifted him off the ground. At this point Dudley and Petunia had left the kitchen and gone elsewhere. Uncle Vernon raised his closed fist and wham he hit Harry square across the jaw.

As blood filled Harry's mouth Uncle Vernon yelled obscenities at Harry. Harry tasted the blood in his mouth as the grip Vernon had on Harry's neck started to bruise him, and as Harry thought of blood, he thought of death, he thought of Sirius. Immediately Harry spit out the blood, which flew into Vernon's face. Uncle Vernon paused for a moment as his face started to match the color of the blood. Now he was angry.

Throwing Harry against the wall, Vernon promptly began beating Harry. Kicking him in the sides and bruising his stomach, Vernon released all his frustrations on his teenage nephew.

Panting slightly and sweating purfousely, Vernon looked derisively down at Harry, "Alright then boy, learned your lesson?" When Harry gave no response Uncle Vernon kicked him in the side. Harry gave a grunt in response. Uncle Vernon bent down to level eyes with Harry who was struggling to sit up. It felt to him as if he had broken two ribs at least. In a dangerous voice Uncle Vernon repeated, "I asked you a question boy, now have you learned your lesson."

Anger welled up in Harry, one of the few emotions he showed anymore, "Ugly git" Harry managed to spit out through clenched teeth.

Vernon's eyes blazed. He got up and unfastened his belt which he gathered into both hands and began beating Harry with it. Harry cried out in pain as tears welled up in his eyes. The previous cuts on his back from similar treatment in the past began to open and bleed.

"Enough, enough!" Harry cried, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He began to whimper repeatedly as he cried on all fours clutching his head with both hands.

Finally Vernon stopped, "Enough boy, now go to your room" Harry attempted to crawl away to his room as any movement at all caused him great pain.

"I said move damn it!" Uncle Vernon kicked Harry forward, and then, as though bored with the whole situation, stormed out of the kitchen into the living room where Petunia and Dudley sat listening to the T.V. at a rather loud volume.

Harry laid there, sprawled out on the floor for a good ten minutes before he made any move to stand. His tears were dry now but his wounds were not as fresh blood trickled down his aching back. His ribs he knew he could fix by taking a good cup full of a potion he'd just recently learned how to make, but his cuts he would have to wrap in muggle bandages.

Harry began to nurse his wounds, a practice he was quite used to now as all summer Vernon had been treating him this way. The reason: because Harry let him. Harry knew that with one letter to the Order of Phoenix he could have Vernon bound and broken, but every time Harry wrote he never mentioned any abuse. Many his letters were written:

To whom it may concern;

All is well here at number four Private Drive.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter.

It was short, it was cold, and it was a lie. In a way, Harry felt the beatings he got were punishment for killing Sirius. All through summer he blamed himself for the death of his beloved godfather, not Snape, not Dumbledore, but him. Harry Potter. He hated himself, hated himself for being so lame, for not standing up for himself, for falling for Voldemort's trap, for being so stupid. He studied magic whenever he could, wrote and even invented a few potions, a few spells. He knew every spell there was available to him. He even knew how to disguise his magic so that he could use it once in a while. He would aspirate to Diagon Alley, get a few books, search aimlessly through the streets cloaked in a spell that made others ignore him. He felt no purpose in the going on of his life, he just felt empty.

As soon as his wounds were bandaged, Harry gathered up some parchment and quill and began to study another of his books. This one was dark magic, forbidden magic, and Harry loved it. The thought of using Voldemorte's own spells against him was thrilling. Harry dreamed of the day he'd get to confront him, him and Bellatrix. They'd both taken loved one's from him, and they were going to pay, they would pay with their lives.

The next mourning Harry awoke to find that he had fallen asleep on his desk. Sometime in the night Hedwig had returned with mail for Harry, birthday presents. Harry looked at them for a moment longing to open them, longing to read the words that his two best friends in the world had wrote him, but then he remembered the dark veil, the screams of lost souls…

Harry was shaken from his thoughts by the shrieking call of Aunt Petunia, "Get down here boy and make breakfast!"

Throwing a shirt on over his head, Harry slowly made the climb down the stairs as his limbs and back screamed in pain. Slowly, making sure not to burn anything, Harry prepared the a meal of bacon, eggs, toast, and muffins. For himself he grabbed a quarter of a grapefruit, his rations 'generously' provided by his Uncle.

Today he was being ignored by the Dursleys other then the occasional order of food or drink. After an uneventful mourning Harry headed up back to his room where he noticed the unopened birthday presents his friends had given him. Before he even had a chance to decide what to do with them, the door burst open to reveal in its frame the fuming Vernon Dursley.

"Boy, I don't recall excusing you from the room," Uncle Vernon began to rant, but then his eyes fell on the brightly colored presents. "Gifts from those freaks you call friends eh, boy?" Huffing into the room Vernon made quick waste of the wrapping as he withdrew from the first box a book entitled, _Aurors of the Age: unique descriptions of famous witches and wizards. _"Well what have we here? I told you no magic in this house boy!" Uncle Vernon had his leather belt in his hand faster than the blink of an eye. "Turn 'round and take off your shirt."

Harry felt numb. He was unsure of what to do, of what he wanted to do. On one hand he wanted to atone for his sins and on the other he just wanted fight back as Sirius might have done.

Noticing his indecision, Uncle Vernon forcibly turned Harry around and stripped off his shirt. He reeled back his hand and brought the first lash against Harry's back causing several scarred wounds to split open. He kept whipping Harry, bruising and opening the flesh on his back. Harry cringed each time, though he would not let any pain show in his face or sadness in his eyes as he stayed blank and emotionless. In his mind though, Harry cried out in pain, 'Why?! WHY?! Not like this, I hate being like this!' He thought first of his friends. He wanted to see them, but was ashamed of what a mess he'd become. Rarely did he stand up for himself anymore. He had lost all vigor and life and thought his friends would hate him for it. Then he thought of his mom and dad, of Remus and Serious and their bonds of friendship. 'I want to see them. I want to see them NOW! I need to see them' unconsciously Harry began to form an incantation in his mind.

Uncle Vernon stopped mid-strike as he saw Harry's body began to glow in a dull red. Stumbling back into Harry's dresser, Uncle Vernon looked on in horror as the young wizard went from emitting a dull red to a brilliant gold light. All the while Harry was oblivious to all but his own thoughts, his own desires to see his family in their happy youth as he slowly disappeared from his world.


	2. Formulating the Plan

Harry's head was spinning. He found himself lying face down on the cold hard street right outside the Leaky Cauldron. "What the-" he began as he massaged his aching neck. Pain echoed up his spine as the full effects of his beating wracked his body.

Rising awkwardly to his feet, Harry found his wand in his pocket and cast an invisibility spell on himself. Cautiously, so as not to bump into any of the early risers that crowded the Leaky Cauldron, Harry made it to the back of the building where he tapped the bricks in order to get through to Diagon Alley. Once there he made his way through the streets, walking at his own leisure. Oddly enough he recognized no faces in the crowds, and the wizards sporting muggle fashions where oddly out of date. They dressed as though they were from the 1970's.

'Wait a tic' Harry thought as he did a double take on the wizard newspaper. 'I need my glasses checked' Harry thought, gaping at the year on the newspaper. Quickly he did a counter spell to make him visible again. 'No way, no possible way' Harry thought as he took the newspaper from the blonde haired boy about 19 years old.

"HEY! _Accio _-" The boy didn't have a chance to finish because Harry had shoved the paper straight up in his face emphatically pointing at the date and saying, "Is this right, is today really this?!"

"Are you daft?" The boy mocked snatching back his newspaper, "of course it is you bloody idiot."

Harry took a step back as he recognized the 'strangers face'. "Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?"

"Draco? I've never heard that name before, but yes I am a Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy to be precise" Lucius said as he looked at Harry as king would a peasant, "and you are-?"

"Oh my God!" Harry said jumping back and painfully regretting it as doing so caused a few of the wounds on his back to slice open.

"Must be a mud blood to phrase it that way" Malfoy sneered, "what are all those bruises for? Are you a muggle slave or something?" Malfoy laughed as though he'd just said something hilariously funny.

'Oh no, I must look a bloody wreck like this' Harry thought as he mentally noted his bruised neck protruding from his blood stained white T-shirt which showed his bruised arms. "I've got to be going" Harry said in a hurry as he quickly dashed around a corner and ducted into an abandoned alley.

'What am I going to do? I am in the 1920's with no money, no job, no shelter, and I know no one!' Harry thought as he again performed an invisibility charm on himself. 'But wait, I'm in the 1970's about the time my parent would be in their 6th year of Hogwarts' Harry's head sot up at the realization.

His wish to see his parents come true! Harry's heart soared as he worked in his head a plan to getting to Hogwarts. He had heard that wizards usually have to apply to enter Hogwarts unless otherwise unaware that it exists (as in the case of Harry). He could say in the application letter that he was home schooled by his only living relative, his grandmother, who had unfortunately passed away recently. 'Yes, that would work, but what about money?'

Just then Harry saw Lucius Malfoy come down the aisle accompanied by two of his goons who pushed, rather forcefully, a boy about Lucius' own age into the alley.

"Set him here boys," Malfoy said as the two men 'set' (or rather threw) the boy to the ground. "And so how are you lately Thomas?"

"M-Malfoy, I- I am n-not going to p-pay for your pro-pro-t-tection anymore" the man stuttered in an attempt at bravery.

"Thomas, Thomas, Thomas, your just recently married now correct? You wouldn't want anything to happen to your lovely wife Eleanor would you?" Thomas' eyes grew wide, "last I heard, she was pregnant, about how far along is she now?"

"F-F-F-Four month's now-" Thomas stuttered.

"Mmm, four months and another filthy mud blood child is born into the world. Say Eleanor were to have an accident, maybe fall down the stairs killing herself and her unborn child, muggles can be so clumsy."

"NO NO NO! PLEASE No! I'm sorry I'll give you the money! Just please leave Eleanor and my family alone! PLEASE!" Thomas said as he threw a rather large purse of gold at Malfoy.

"Very well" Malfoy said stooping to pick up the money, "see, I'm not such a bad guy after all am I Thomas? Let's just not have this little incident repeat itself shall we?"

Thomas scrambled backwards to his feet and took off running while Malfoy and company counted the purse money and laughed.

"Poor sniveling fool. As if I'd let him and that disgrace of a child live" and then they all laughed as if it were some great joke.

Harry at that moment decided it would be a great time to try his new disguising spell as he transformed himself into the spitting image of Tom Riddle, adding a few features to make himself look a little older.

"Mr. Malfoy" Harry/Tom said. Immediately Malfoy dropped his money and kissed the ground as did all his other companions.

"S-Sir. I am honored that you would come all this way to see me-" Malfoy began still kneeling to 'tom'

"SILENCE!" a shiver went down Malfoy's back as he kept dead still, "I witnessed what you have done to Thomas. What have you to say?"

"I have done so to many others as well sir. All, of course, for you sir. The money sits in the vault at my home and waits only for your command to be brought to you, sir."

"Hmm," Harry/Tom reflected on this, "Bring it to me now."

"Sir?" Malfoy asked craning his head to see 'tom'.

"I SAID NOW YOU IMBICILE!" Harry/Tom said and for dramatic effect added in a lightening bolt from his form to next to Lucius' head.

"Y-Yes sir!" Lucius said as he stood up in bow form, not daring to look at 'tom' directly.

In a few moments Harry was off to make a rather large deposit in Gringutts Bank under the name "Harry Williams" as Malfoy lay double bent in the alley way under the impression that he was a five year old girl lost in a muggle mall (courtesy of Harry's memory charm). Harry was surprised at how completely changed his mood was. For some reason he felt happier then he had in a long time, but then again, that's not saying much.

Hello you who read my story, and thank you. Please leave a review and let me know how you like the story so far. Critiques are welcome. Thank you, thank you, thank you.


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